Our Blood is Thicker Than Water
by The hooded figure
Summary: Nathan/Corpse, Nathan/Shilo. Necrophilia, Bloodletting, Rape, Incest. FF-MA After a grizzly repossession Nathan returns home and has a conflict of conscience. Slash. FF-MA Strong Language and Sexual Themes.


[Warning: This is a Fic that involves alot of Creepy things. Incestuous Rape, Necrophilia, Bloodletting etc. The Pairings are: Nathan/Corpse, and Nathan/Shilo. If you have a problem with the pairing, I am sorry, but you need not read any further. Problem with the aforementioned Kinks. Again, luckily I warned you before hand and you have been spared.

and yes, I am a very sick individual.  
Thanks to my Girl for the first Title and the help with editing.]

_**Our Blood is Thicker Than Water**_

_Or_

_**The Joys of Wallacest!**_

The neck was in his hands: hands slightly over sized for the body they were attached to. Hands of a killer. The pulse was strong and racing: it was fear. Fear that drove the body to do what it was designed to. Signals in the brain, hormones, all asking one thing: Fight or Flight? Run or Engage? Attack or Flee? One of them they tried: always they run first. He wouldn't have had it any other way. Blood pumping: half in fear, half in exertion of the chase. They were struggling. Trying to fight back: futile. He took the multipurpose scalpel from the Cryo-bag at his feet—still holding the woman by her neck. The cool metal placed against her skin. Flesh warming the blade with a light touch.

Repo knew exactly what was happening: adrenaline coursing through the body in response to a knife at the throat. Pounding blood through flesh, eyes dilated. Maybe she wanted to close them shut, she wouldn't be able to. He had already taken them, her eyelids; they were sitting on the floor. He wanted her to see: he wanted the fear, it was exciting. Her eyes were wide and taking in more light and information than she wanted. She tried to look away: the hands of the Monster kept her from looking to far. The blade scratched across her neck slightly: a few drops of blood. Pound, drip. Pound, drip. Each thump let a little more of the life fall out of her. The slight smell of copper wafted over the air. A smile crept under the cold face of a killer, a legal assassin. The blade dove into the belly: digging out skin and viscera to get to the targets. The intestines were new, and needed to come back, the uterus was as well: all past due. Liver, and kidneys were coming. When the job was done her body was drained of life. The resistance of bone and muscle still held in the memory of his hand and arm. Blood still dripping from her open wound: the last remnants in her corpse. She was attractive, in the same way all scalpel sluts were: artificial, fake: designed to be beautiful, not gifted with it. Still, it would be a waste of a beautiful craftsmanship. All the blood, gore and screaming had worked him up. He wanted release—he wanted something as primal as the act of murder he just committed. He wanted to fuck.

He spread her legs; they fell open with lifeless abandon. He ripped off her underwear with callous disregard for how it would feel. Why be gentle with a thing? She would feel nothing now. His finger probed. She was dry. The blood however had pooled up in her skirt: he sliced it open. Lukewarm liquid spilled between her legs, wetting the object of his primal need inside and out. He looked around: no one would bother him for a while, plenty of time for him to finish his repossession and be out. His hands were busy with work: one gloved hand prepping the husk for her desecration, the other quickly undoing the parts to his coat that needed unclasping for this ravaging. Erection standing firm he placed himself between her, he spoke to his soon to be lover.

"Shh, shh, shh. You aren't as beautiful as Marni was, or pretty like Shilo, but you will do." He forced himself within her open body. The blood slick and wet, her body was still and as warm as the air around it. It was still tight, it was still virginal. For an instant Nathan wondered how old she was, Repo didn't care. Pressing in, drawing out. Red sticky slick lubrication making the possess easier. The motion was so close to his normal job it was so easy: insert, withdraw, plunge, retract. Pressure and timing. He reached into her still open stomach, he pulled a muscle cluster. Her body tightened, she stared lifelessly to the street: there was no one. He continued to force himself within her. Blood still seeping in: making it slicker. More and more and more that primal drive in the back of his head, that animal, that monster drove his body. He wanted more—changes in speeds and force. Building pressure behind a wall of wanting: not for her, but for release. Faster, harder. More and more. He looked at her.

It was pointless. She wasn't Marni. She could never be his late wife. She was the shell of some dead thing that couldn't make her payments. He pulled himself out of her, and dressed himself. He walked home. Rotti wouldn't need these parts until morning.

Shilo was sleeping when he walked in. She awoke when he sat next to her; he tried to calm her with soothing words. She had another nightmare. He checked the machines in the monochromatic room. She was doing fine. It reminded him of when Marni was alive: before his cure. He shook those thoughts from his head and looked to Shilo. She looked just like Marni. Just like when they first met. Nathan's thoughts came rushing from that primal part of him that was still unsatisfied. Images of her and him in the middle of sexual acts: some innocent and sweet, others more deprived and disturbing. His body still wanting: gratification and release, the body of a loved one.

"Shilo...I..." Nathan wasn't able to look her in the eyes: those eyes that reminded him so much of Marni. "I should..." She could see something was wrong. She got up and grabbed his arm as he got up to leave. He felt her, a warm touch on his arm. He turned and looked to her.

"What's wrong?" It wasn't the anniversary of Marni's death yet. Shilo was concerned for her Father. She may hate him, but she still loved him. Nathan looked at her, for the first time taking in the maturing of her body. She was a woman now, 17 and already growing up so fast. Her body still budding yes, but she was every bit as beautiful as Marni was. He looked her in the eyes. Marni's eyes looked back at him, the same care, concern and love showing in them. She was even wearing her favorite nightgown.

The Animal returned: here was Marni. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her in close, he kissed her. Not the impassioned kiss of a lover, but the strong kiss of an assailant. He pushed her back to her bed. Shilo was too stunned to do anything, to even react. Was she dreaming? Another nightmare? He pressed her down to the bed and quickly rid himself of his pants once more. They fell to the floor, hung around his ankles. He kissed her again, once more dispassionate. One hand on her shoulder, arm across her chest, his now free hand began to slide up her nightgown. It found the little ruffled blue panties she was wearing. These he slowly took off with care: to not harm his child, to not ruin her clothing.

"Dad...Dad, let me go. Stop it! What are you..."

Shilo now began to fight back, she kicked. It was too late however; he was already between her legs when she began. There was nothing she could do now, except scream. She did.

Her scream was cut short by Nathan's free hand across her mouth.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok, relax, I love you..."

He pushed her down again, pulling her closer to him. Once more her held her down with just one arm. His hand began to guide his still erect penis toward her. She wouldn't be ready or willing, he was ok with that. There were ways to trick the body. He touched it, the outside of her vagina. He let his fingers trace the outside of her: becoming acquainted with one another. His lips kissed her neck as his finger touched her clitoris. Shilo jumped. She began to fight back again, but it proved useless: her Father was too strong. She asked him to stop, begged him not to do this. Under the fear, under the helplessness it felt good, she didn't yet know it. He played with it a little more, finger moving back and forth. Physiologically this was sending signals to the brain to get ready for sex: what Nathan wanted, what he needed. Under his lips he felt her pulse quicken. Was it the fear or the arousal?

Her body was getting ready, a slave to the hormones and signals it was receiving. The lips to her vagina pulsed and opened in time with her heart. Wet moisture beading on the now slick surface, she was almost prepped. Nathan kissed her again, once more on the neck: sucking slightly. His finger tested her, like it had the cadaver no more than an hour ago. She was slippery, ready, and almost eager. Shilo jumped when his finger slowly slinked inside, waves of conflicting feelings and thoughts. She wanted him to stop. She was crying now. Why was he doing this?

"Dad, please!" in between the sobs she called out to him, begging her Father to stop. He heard her, but not what she was saying: _Nathan, please!_ A sultry plead for him to continue, it was the last time he and Marni were intimate she spoke those words. He was gentle. Slowly, easing his way in, he didn't want to harm her. He wanted her to enjoy it. He wanted: Shilo. He kissed her: not the forced kiss of the assailant he was, but the tender kiss of the lover he wanted to become.

He started slow, gentle; almost as if afraid he would break her. He lifted his arm from her chest. He moved carefully: like a boy with a new lover, unsure of what to do. He slid inside Shilo, and began to withdraw. She was still sobbing; she didn't know what to do: it all seemed helpless. She was angry, sad and deep within her: she was enjoying it. It was different. She felt filled, it was new and unexpected. Joy and pleasure yes, but she felt: complete almost. It didn't make sense to her. Then he began to withdraw, she could feel that emptiness returning, that incompleteness. She felt void again: it saddened her more. She wanted him to stop! She was still crying.

Nathan let himself go: he rolled back into her. He was so careful, so caring, so tender and gentle. He once more retreated from her body, but re-entered when only the tip of his erection was still inside Shilo. In the back of his mind he was telling himself this was wrong: this wasn't right. This was his daughter. He looked into her eyes again. They were rolling back, reddened and puffed from the crying. Her face had hints that she was enjoying at least some part of this. He was a monster: all he wanted was to keep her safe.

"Shi, I am sorry." He looked down, unable to stop himself. His motions were like the ocean: a place he always wanted to take Shilo. Not the modern Ocean: a mass watery graveyard, but the beaches of his youth, before GeneCo. Slow rhythmic cycles of light crashing followed by the water pulling back as the next one came in: slow gentle cycles on a soft beach.

Shilo wasn't sure what she should feel. Outraged? Angry? Happy? Everything in her mind told her she should hate this: she should be fighting back. Her body said she was enjoying it. She looked at the face of her Father. He wasn't mourning, he wasn't in pain. He was happy. She wasn't Marni to him, she was Shilo. He pressed into her; it sent waves of that new filling pleasure through her. Her eyes fluttered. What he said next confirmed it. He called her Shi. She smiled: she threw logic out the window, and gave into the emotions her body was feeling. Casting aside the feelings her mind said she should have: no guilt. This was not a time for regret. She pressed into her Father, rolling her hips. Sparks of tangible joy went through her.

Nathan jumped when Shilo pulled him from his mind. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Pulling him closer to her, he began to speak a half thought question before her lips met his. There was the spark, that connection of two lovers: Nathan and Shilo. A similar spark to one he had with Marni: but wholly changed and new. It was theirs. They made love a little more with him as the aggressor, Shilo just beginning to experiment with what felt good, what to do. She turned him on his back: no force needed, they were working together now. The two of them undressed as he rolled his back there. Nathan took in the sights of his daughter once more: he was wrong. She wasn't as beautiful as Marni—she was more so. She slid on top of him, each inch sending signals of joy and ecstasy to their bodies. Shivering with pleasure unfelt in Shilo's body, Nathan taking pleasure in the touch of a new lover.

They continued their movements, up and down. Each of them exploring the other's body: with touch and tongue, finger and lip. Each one a new sensation: new touch, a new feeling. Shilo found her self trying to go faster, her Father—no—her Lover's hands around her, pulling her down so that they could kiss: lips entangled. She could feel a pressure building. She could feel the desire for something: her body told her to go faster, she listened. She wanted to say something, to whisper, to shout, to yell, to be silent. Her body was tensing. Faster. Faster. It was holding something back: building up something, like pulling back a rubber band.

Nathan felt her move quicker. She was panting, bodies beading with sweat. He pressed into her more. He could feel the release he wanted, the climax he wanted to share with her. He could feel it building more and more. Harder. Harder. Deeper. He was getting closer. She was getting closer. He felt the beginnings of his release come. She was going so strong. He stopped kissing her, and just held her close. Pulling her head next to his.

"Shilo!" His release came, slight jerks and shudders. Seventeen years of sexual frustration melted off of him. He looked at Shilo: a new found love filled him.

Shilo felt her Nathan fill her, not with him, but something else, something warm. She felt the band within her begin to slip. She wanted to say something before it snapped back. She wanted to scream something for him, something just for him.

"Daddy!" It snapped. She was panting. Her body tired, a little sore, but all over relaxed and in a state of blissful slack. She looked to her Father, her Lover. They smiled and kissed. In the back of her mind, Shilo was beginning to wonder if what they just did was the right thing. Now was the time for guilt. What had they done? He was her Father! Why did she think it was such a good idea? Why did it feel so good? Shilo kept these thoughts in her head. Guilt, worry, dismay, confusion wracked her mind once more. A few questions from her guilty pleasure cropped up: would it happen again? What sparked this? It was beginning to tear her up inside.

They laid next to each other a moment. Nathan looked to his love with pride and spoke:

"I didn't know I loved you so much."

Shilo's mind was still reeling, but she smiled and felt a little better.

Within the hour he had another assignment. He wasn't hard to find: Repo dragged him back into another ally way. He was screaming. It was intoxicating: the fear this one had. Screaming, begging, offering money: the stages of acceptance. He pulled out his scalpel again, this time he didn't take the eyelids. He reached in and severed the tongue. Blood began to well up in the target's mouth.

"Shhhhhhhhh." He smiled at his new found appreciation of silence, "I love my daughter very much." The knife began to tease the man's skin. Little cuts away from anything vital or truly bloody, yet. Blood began to come out the man's mouth like a slow thick waterfall. "I will do anything to keep my love safe." The man's face showed how terrified he was. Repo drank it in. "I'll stop at nothing!" He barked the last word as the knife dug deep into the soon to be cadaver's belly. He was going after the heart through the diaphragm: he wanted to get back to Shilo as soon as possible. He smiled: it's important to enjoy your work.


End file.
